M is for Mace, N is for Namagomi
by Viviane Latour
Summary: A silly short about one day's attempt to teach little Valgaav about the good, bad, and smelly things in life.


Definition:  
college student: _n. _A person that attends an institution of post-secondary education, most likely seeking an undergraduate degree in one or more of a myriad collection of disciplines. Common characteristics include high stress levels, extreme sleep deprivation, abnormally high caffeine consumption, and a distinct lack of money. Typically poor targets for lawsuits. (Pun intended.)  
...Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I don't own Slayers, never have owned Slayers, and will continue not to own Slayers in the future. The proper nouns aren't mine, although I'm pretty sure the idea is. Please don't copy it.  
  
This is 100% romance-free without a pairing in sight! Intended for everyone that enjoys a seriously warped sense of humor. I took a few liberties with comedic effect in mind. Don't take them seriously... I don't. The inspiration for reborn Valgaav's personality came from none other than my pet cockatiel, since he's the closest I have to a two-year-old mentality. (He can't talk either.)  
  
Rated PG for comedic violence. No profanity, no perversion. Brace yourself for a very strange style of writing humor, however. I'm not sure how or why I do it, just that I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it before. I tend to say that something happened, but I don't reveal the effects until later, so keep that in mind as you read.  
  
  
A Mace to the Head Makes Lessons Stay Longer  
(that is, if no concussions result at the same time)  
...or M is for Mace, N is for Namagomi  
by Viviane Latour  
  
  


"Val-chan, do you know what time it is?" Filia said as she locked the door to her mace-and-vase shop and pulled down a window shade to ward off the midday sun.

Young Valgaav, who was already in a particularly petulant mood for reasons that only his little dragon mind knows, was not interested in guessing the time of day or guessing much of anything else for that matter. Instead, he glared rather angrily at Filia from his vantage point in the middle of the floor and pointed at his stomach.

"No, Valgaav, lunch is later. It's time for your daily lessons, remember?"

This news did not appease the cranky dragon in the least. He continued to glare at Filia.

"Would some tea make you happy, sir?" Filia asked with a quickly increasing degree of frustration, complete with eyebrow twitch. Valgaav dropped the angry child act just long enough to give her an enthusiastic nod, then promptly returned to glaring.

"Very well then." She surrendered a bottle of hot tea to him and began to tug an oversized slide projector on a cart (complete with one non-functioning wheel) from another room. While her back was turned, Valgaav threw the top of the bottle aside, chugged the tea, and let out a belch loud enough to end Jillas's peaceful nap in the stockroom.

_"...Tomorrow, he learns tea etiquette. _Valgaav! Have you no shame? Excuse yourself at once!" He promptly arose and walked out.

"VALGAAV!" Filia's last nerve popped. He sat back down. "Let us get this started before Lina gets here for lunch, okay?" She lit a candle in the very primitive excuse for a slide projector and turned a handle, bringing up a picture of a teapot.

"Tea. Tea is good for you, right?"

Valgaav was busy looking at the ceiling.

Filia sighed and continued. "A mace. You will get one when you are old enough."

Valgaav still stared at the ceiling.

"Food!" Valgaav looked at the slide of Phibrizo and Gaav. "Dark Lords. Evil. Bad. Lina's department, whether she likes it or not."

She brought up a slide of a pile of trash.

"Namagomi."

A collection of the congealed remnants of a salad.

"Namagomi."

A picture of Xellos.

"Namagomi."

Valgaav was, once again, fixated on the ceiling.

"Valgaav, dear, what is so interesting about the rafters?"

"...Namagomi."

Filia looked towards the source of the previous statement -- which was definitely not uttered by the snarling creature on the floor -- who happened to be hiding in the cobwebs under the roof and grinning like he knew how the world was going to end.

Her hair stood on end.

He teleported to the ground.

Her tail stood on end.

His grin broadened. She was making quite a lovely feast today!

Every mace in the store stood at attention.

In the meantime, Jillas had emerged from the stockroom (courtesy of Valgaav's flatulence) and decided to save his next paycheck, along with spare himself the torment involved with being on the wrong end of Filia's favorite mace, by rescuing the pottery and Valgaav from the shock waves that would inevitably result because of this most uninvited... "guest." Valgaav, however, had other intentions, and clarified them to Jillas by means of his teeth.

Filia's anger peaked and subsequently boiled over.

"NA-MA-GO-MI!"

The maces flew at their smirking target.

He teleported away.

Filia quite literally flew out of the now conspicuously absent door in pursuit of the Namagomi King himself, taking what remained of the doorframe with her.

Some very short time later, Lina and her entourage arrived at the three-and-a-half walls remaining of Filia's shop, only to find Jillas nursing his profusely bleeding thumb and Valgaav... who promptly pointed at the chaos in the sky.


End file.
